


Unchanged

by Lumiel_lightbringer



Series: Brothers (Lucifer & Michael) [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Brotherly Angst, Brotherly Love, Dialogue Heavy, Gen, Light Angst, Lucifer (Supernatural) in the Cage, Michael (Supernatural) in Lucifer's Cage, They love each other, They worry too much, dont worry, just TALK you celestial entities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-23 20:23:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20213515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumiel_lightbringer/pseuds/Lumiel_lightbringer
Summary: Sam and his soul are on Earth once more, and Adam is in Heaven, leaving the two archangels alone with unresolved issues and deep abandonment anxiety.Or,The archangels talk in the Cage and Michael realises Lucifer's Fall didn't change him too much.





	Unchanged

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at like 5 am so I'm sorry for any errors (i'm literally using Google's weird red squiggly lines as guidance, which may or may not be a good idea.) and also if I fucked up the ending, since I started this with a more angsty idea.  
side-note :there is a lil bit mention of blood in michael's pov so if you get grossed out by that, sorry. I was listening to a happy song so don't blame me that it got a lil fluffy once i got into lucifer's pov -
> 
> oh yeah, also there's quite a bit of swearing because... thats a thing.
> 
> hopefully you enjoy~

~

Michael

If Lucifer could glare any bit angrier, his eyes would explode.

It has been centuries that we have spent down here, and yet we get no where.

He rarely speaks to me, and even then, his rants are riddled with insults, layered threats, and, most importantly, _guilt_. Both on me and him.

I don't know if Lucifer is even capable of having a normal conversation. Heaven knows it's been eons since he has, much less with me of all people.

Luce and I have a very complex relationship. We are brothers, that we cannot change. It is fact, and I would never change it for a thing in this, or any, universe, even if it were possible.

I remember the day Lucifer was handed to me. We were not exactly 'born', more as spawned into existence. A very minuscule difference, but an important one.

The point is, ever since I laid eyes on Lucifer, or, as he was known back then, Lumiel, there was a warmth inside me that grew whenever I saw him. I loved him when Father told me he was creating a sibling for me, and I loved him when I was given full responsibility for him.

I loved him as a fledgling, I loved him as he grew and matured, I loved him as companions - colleagues, friends, I even loved him when he chose to bear the Mark in my place.

It was God's Will that I took it, I knew, but when I saw Luce's pleading eyes - that look of 'please, big brother, please' - I couldn't say no. He wanted to help, and I let him.

I loved him as it corrupted him, I loved him when he Fell, and I loved him when he waged war of Heaven.

We battled, one-on-one, after many of our brethren, some I had raised myself, as I had with Lumiel. 

He held a dagger to my throat. Luce always preferred light-weight weapons to swords or spears. Always on quick on his feet, or light with his wings.

Our eyes met and I could see how much the Mark had changed him. His Grace was corrupt. Blackened. The Fallen Prince, he became known as. I refused then, and still do know, to call him as such. He is still a Prince of Heaven, Fall or not.

His eyes, once a brilliant green, a light blue mixed in to create an aqua colour matching Earth's own oceans, became blood red. They gleamed as his demons eyes did, with a dark, smokey look.

And his wings... His once grass-coloured feathers that, when in the sun's light, shined brighter than the white of any seraph's wings could have. They began blackened. Charcoal coated, burnt, wings.

He was missing feathers in many places, making me wonder if he _had_ been burnt. The bones were poking out of the seared skin, which frightened me the most. But probably close in the running, was the fact that every single feather... Every last one, looked as if they were dipped in blood.

Around the bones, and skin, the upper feathers had dry, crusted maroon. But by the bottom of his wings, the crimson actually dripped.

But the fact that it was blood wasn't what scared me. Who's it was, did. Because I did not know, and I still don't.

My baby brother, once the adorable fledgling begging to ride on my back as I flew us to and from Earth - he was fascinated with water, loved when I would take him down to bathe him in the clean, fresh water - was changed into what the Earthlings call Devil, or Satan.

I resent both names, and refuse to call him them, even when he himself uses them. Because that is not my brother. That was never my brother.

The brother I know, would not have pressed his angel blade into my neck, staring me dead in the eyes.

The brother I know, would never have a gleam of pleasure in his irises as he dragged the dagger down, creating a jagged, vertical line on my throat, just thin enough for blood to show, but not deep enough to cause any real damage.

The brother I know, would not have wiped the blood off, grinned, and licked it off his fingers.

The brother I know... The brother I raised...

He would never have fought me in our home, our dead brothers and sisters lying motionless in the fields surrounding us.

But he did.

And he looked damn happy the entire time. Up until his loss, Lucifer looked both angry and excited.

That shine in his eyes... That evil glitter of corruption that has never quite left his eyes, it shone the entire war.

But it disappeared, for a minute, after he was chained and contained in the palace.

Our palace. Father's, palace.

I remember staring Father in the eyes, sword at my side and shield on my forearm. I was kneeling, I know that, but I looked up at him after he addressed me, as he had, oh-so many times.

"Michael, my oldest child," He spoke in an strong, booming voice, "You have succeeded in foiling Lucifer's War." Lucifer, oh how I had hated that name, "It is time."

He stood, climbing down the stairs leading to his throne. "Rise." I did.

"You are too remove the Mark from Lucifer's arm, and hand it over to a mortal. The Human, named Cain. He is to bear it for the rest of his mortal life."

I remember saying, "Yes, sir." God was not my Father, as much as he was my General.

"Then, you are to banish him into the deepest reaches of Hell." The words that left his mouth that day still haunt me now. They startle me into consciousness whenever I feel too safe, too comfortable."Lucifer is to be chained and locked away in a Cage, designed so he cannot leave. You will secure it with 66 seals. He is not to leave until I have deemed him pure." But what he says next. That, will carry on into my rest in the Empty, after I have passed. "You brother has Fallen twice, my son. Do not hold out hope for him. He is gone. Lumiel is no more. Lucifer, is your new kin."

But even through all of this, even past all of our differences, and even as I sit here, in the Cage I had sealed myself with Lucifer inside eons ago, I still love my brother.

~

Lucifer

"Dumbass." I toss another wad of paper I conjured at him. How has he not even noticed?

"Asshat." I try again, this time throwing it more violently.

"Dickweed." Another ball of paper.

"Fucktard." Another.

"Shithead." Another.

Finally, _finally_, Michael stirs from his weird-ass trance.

He raises his head to look at me. His gaze moves towards the trash littered around him and snaps, causing everything to disappear.

"Whatchya thinking about, Mikey?" I say with a grin, rolling over onto my back to stare up at him from upside down, just to jazz things up a bit.

He doesn't respond. He just looks into my eyes, then turns away.

"Come on~" I whine, sitting up, grabbing onto his arm, "Humour me."

He glances back and rolls his eyes, "I have been. For billions of years."

A flare of anger rises in me, but I funnel it into something else. Something I'm amazing at. Sass. "Really? Because I haven't been laughing all these years down here."

Michael doesn't respond, yet again. "You're no fun." I mumble, crawling away and back to my corner, diagonal to his so I can have a good look at him while also being far enough apart just in case things get freaky.

Why does he have to be like this? I mean, I'm just trying to pass the time!

"You have a foul way of time passing." He mumbles, and I feel my face redden.

"Was that aloud?"

"No. I just like to read your thoughts sometimes."

"Creep."

He gives me a look before turning back to the riveting view of _Hell_ from between the barely existent cracks in the walls.

"Is that what you've been doing this entire time?" I question, my head lolling to the side as I begin to pick at the ground, watching as I manage to get a layer of the metal-rust-grime-rock combination that I didn't know could even exist. Then again, I think this Cage was meant to mess with my head. Or maybe it's just some stone I don't know about. I don't spend that much time on Earth. I don't spend that much time anywhere _but here_. Kinda like my room. Except now, big brother has decided to move in with me. Well, he was kind of forcefully shoved in, but that wasn't my fault, Sam is a dick and I was overpowered. Human souls are stupidly powerful.

"You think so loudly..." He mumbles, ignoring my question, which gives me my answer.

"Sorry let me turn my thought process down a little for you, your majesty." I reply, and it was meant to come out as more of a tease, considering he's the one choosing to read my mind, but it sounded angry.

He lifts his head and our eyes meet. I can tell he wants to say something. If I was powerful enough to do more than conjure up small objects, I'd read _his_ mind. He stays silent, looking back down.

After probably an entire day of uncomfortable silence, I speak up again.

"If you're mad at me, I get it." Jackpot. 

This gets his attention.

"I mean, I'm the weak-ass Fallen that got overpowered by a mud-monkey. I'm sorry. I don't exactly want to be here, either."

He furrows his eyebrows, visibly confused, "I am not mad." He states, rather blatantly, "And you are not weak. Human souls-"

"Are giant nuclear bombs of utter destruction and we're a 5 dollar pack of fireworks, yeah, I know."

He purses his lips together but doesn't comment on my remark. Back to silence. Great. I fucked that up, big.

"The war." I say aloud, not exactly intending to, and not exactly pleased at how loudly it came out. Michael peers over at me. It has been many more days, as a guess. Probably more. Time is unusal, down here.

"What about it."

"I... wasn't in control."

He looks back in front of him, "I know."

I let out a harsh breath, fuming now at him. "Can you stop?" I announce, quite aggrivated by now.

He ignores the Hell out of me, then acts like he knows everything! How on Earth - ugh, that psychic ass...

"Stop what?" His tone remains, as it has before, calm and stoic. Emotionless. That's my brother... Why he is locked in 'Warrior Mode' - basically how he acts whenever Father was, has, or planned on addressing him, or if he was doing anything in Father's name. A horrible, perfect, loyal state. The perfect angel... - I have no clue.

That is... Unless... "Do you truly expect Father to save you from this place?" A smirk plays on my lips when his response is instant.

"Of course I do."

"And why is that, may I ask?" I lean over, my leg swinging over so it is crossed over the other, bent as I hold my head up with my hand.

"Because I have done no wrong. This Cage is your punishment, not mine. He will return me to Heaven. I must be patient." _Patience is key_. I remember him repeating that to me many times. Mostly when I was learning to fly... "I also told you that when you wanted Father to give you tasks as he did I."

"Stop that." I whine, the grin vanished from my face. "And no, he won't. Because you kinda did fuck up his 'Will'."

Michael's eyes narrow and he stands. Oh shit.

"And how is that, 'may I ask'?" He asks, his voice threatening. 

I pull myself up so I, too am on my feet. "You did not kill me. We did not battle-"

"And that is on you, as well!"

"I am not saying otherwise!" I shout, "But you have not fulfilled your end of our destiny, nor have I. Sam Winchester also had a part to play in this, but Father favours humans, not the mention his family that seems to be resurrected more than they have been dead!"

"It is not-"

"You place blame on me for everything, brother! Just because you wish Father's love more than anything else."

After a silent, tense second, Michael whispers, "And you do not?"

"Of course I do." I turn away and return to my corner. "Why else would I Fall?"

Michael's body tenses and he looks back at me. "What?"

"You heard me."

"You Fell because of the Mark-"

"I Fell because I chose Father over Mankind and he believed that led to my corruption."

Slowly, Michael approaches me, sitting down in front of me. I have his attention, at last. His full attention.

"You were corrupt when you Fell." He whispers, "Father said the Mark clouded your mind. He said it made you unloyal. Untrustworthy." He stares at me, but I can tell he has something else to say. "Unloveable." He finally whispers.

The Cage spins around me, and I feel nauseous. The already cold air of the deep Hell landscape increases until I'm shivering, shaking.

Michael has a hand over the two of mine that are looped around my bent knees, fingers intertwined weakly but tightening as waves of illness roll through me. His touch is gentle, barely there. My numb fingers barely notice, but I see it, and the gesture gives me hope.

"Did you agree?"

I can practically see the smoke from his head as the cogs turn and he chooses his words, each precisely laid out. "I believed the Mark made you unstable. Unpredictable. But not as he described. You were, and are, still my brother. Not a curse such as that, nor an imprisonment as this could alter my love for you."

I swallow the lump in my throat, my body nearly shaking at this. "You... Still love me?" I gasp out, my words breathy and forced, since my throat seems to be closing up on me. Tears begin to fill my vision, but I blink them away. Well, struggle to.

"Of course, I do."

My body trembles horribly as I inhale again. A stray tear escapes my eyes, and my face burns warm suddenly.

Michael's light fingers carefully brush away the droplet, "You thought I did not." He mumbles, "You thought I was living in resentment of you."

I nod, watching through my peripheral vision as he scoots to be at my side, an arm gently touching my right shoulder. "I could never feel anything but love for you."

Those words comfort me into a more relaxed state than I have been since I obtained the Mark. And still, my skin thrums and I quiver under his touch, my emotions all pushing against the dam, ready to break down at a moments notice.

He places his palm fully on my shoulder, thumbing over the exposed skin gingerly. I can tell he's unsure of how I'm feeling.

"You know," I manage to get out, an honest smile shaking on my lips, "For someone able to read my mind, you don't really know how to read me."

I can see slight movement on his lips, the corners turning up for less than a second, "It has been a long time since we have been in close quarters." He mumbles, "But I _can _tell when you're upset."

"Was it the tears or the shaking?" I ask, letting out a light laugh. For the first time in eons, I feel honestly, happy.

He smiles, a real smile. A smile that I missed so. A smile that warms my core enough to cease the shivering completely. "I love you, too, Michael." I finally say. I could see it in his eyes since the second the words had left his mouth.

He wanted- no, he _needed_ \- confirmation. A reminder.

It seems my brother, the Warrior that I have thought as the polar opposite of I for such a long time, has more in common than I originally remembered.

I need him, and, it seems, he needs me.

"I do." He mumbles, a smirk playing on his mouth.

"You!" I exclaim, laughing, "You always listen to my mind!"

"You don't seem to be listening yourself so-"

I smack him and we both laugh. Honest-to-Father, laughter.

Here we are, two archangels filled with the power to create and destroy galaxies with a snap of our fingers. Him, the Prince of Heaven, God's Warrior, and the strongest angel to ever live: the firstborn. Me, the Fallen Prince of Heaven, the Morningstar and second-born son. Sitting in the Cage meant to hold me at my strongest, laughing our asses off at the fact that Michael likes to explore my mind.

Here we are, two brothers, sitting together, laughing and chatting together at the silliest of things.

Here we are. Michael and Lucifer - No. Michael and Lumiel.

Brothers.


End file.
